Hals's Childhood Story

Opening his eyes, Little Hals woke from unconsciousness to see an unfamiliar ceiling. His head still ached; he had stayed too long in the judgment space, placing some strain on his soul.

Hals propped himself up with both hands on the bed, leaning against the headboard, sitting weakly. His head still throbbed in sharp, intermittent pulses, so he gripped it tightly with his right hand to ease the pain. It was a long while before the ache subsided slightly.

Only then did Hals notice that he was not wearing his usual robe, but a loose set of sleepwear.

"Did Master change me..." Hals murmured to himself, raising a hand to touch his scar-covered face and the brand on his neck. "Then... she's seen everything."

Hals was dazed. He didn't know if Bibi Dong would be disgusted or repulsed by his face, and this thought filled him with a certain panic. Still, he forced himself to take deep breaths, trying to calm his heart.

Hals fumbled to get up and found his robe neatly folded by Bibi Dong on a nearby chair. He walked over, picked up the robe with both hands, and hesitated for a long time. For so many years, he had worn that robe without ever taking it off, using it to hide his appearance. Now that Bibi Dong had already seen him, he didn't know whether he should put the robe back on and continue hiding his true self from the world.

After a long pause, Hals silently pulled the robe over himself, returning to his former appearance.

Pushing open the door, Hals realized the room he had rested in was just an inner chamber. Bibi Dong was sitting at the dining table, chin propped on both hands, looking utterly bored, lost in thought.

Hearing the sound of Hals pushing the door open, Bibi Dong turned around and looked at him. The two faced each other, both silent.

Finally, Hals spoke first, his voice hoarse and weak:

"Thank you, Master. I'm sorry for troubling you to bring me back. Please punish me for causing such a disturbance." Hals bowed his head deeply.

Looking at the still-obedient Hals before her, Bibi Dong felt a complicated mix of emotions. To be precise, this was the first time she had seen Hals in such a berserk state. Last time, she had been unconscious herself, and it was also the first time she had seen the face beneath his robe. In a way, she had come to know him anew, but countless questions still lingered in her heart.

Bibi Dong nodded, turned to the table, and poured tea into two cups. She picked up the cup in front of her but didn't drink, just twirled it in her hand.

With her back to Hals, she said softly, "Hals, come sit. I want to talk with you."

Hals hesitated briefly, then walked over and sat down across from Bibi Dong, but kept his head lowered, not meeting her eyes.

"Hals."

"Yes, Master."

"Can you tell me about your past?" Bibi Dong looked up at Hals' face, hidden beneath his hood, but couldn't help recalling the sharply divided features she had seen.

Hals was silent, a little hesitant.

Seeing his hesitation, Bibi Dong quickly added:

"Don't mind me. I just want to understand you better. After all, we'll be spending a long time together, and you are my servant. If it's too difficult for you, then don't say anything. It's fine."

At this, Hals took a deep breath and said:

"No. If Master wishes to hear it, it's fine. It's just that the past is somewhat hard to revisit."

"I was a war orphan, taken in by a group that called itself a circus but was really a trafficking ring. It was there I met the old man who changed my life..."

At five years old, Little Hals was the most handsome child in the circus, and also the most expensive "merchandise." At first, when he saw the companions he played with every day being led out one by one by the circus master and handed over to strangers, he was even a little envious. In his innocence, he asked the man about it, and the man smiled, telling him those were people adopting them, that they would start new lives in new families.

Until one day...

After finishing his acrobatic performance, Little Hals waved and smiled as he exited to the cheers of the audience. Just as he returned backstage, he found the Ringmaster waiting for him, his greasy, pig-faced visage beaming with a full smile.

"Come quickly, my dear Little Hals. Come meet your new family. I picked them out especially for you."

"Really, Ringmaster? Someone really wants to adopt me?" Little Hals' face lit up with surprise and joy.

"Of course, of course. Don't talk too much, just follow me." The Ringmaster tried his best to hide the impatience in his eyes.

The Ringmaster led Little Hals to a side room, where he saw the old man.

What kind of person was he?

Withered face, tall and thin, with a sinister, feminine demeanor and a pale complexion. Little Hals' first impression was very bad, but he still mustered his courage, stepped forward, and asked:

"Old grandpa, are you the one adopting me?" At that time, Little Hals' face was full of hope for the future, unaware of what awaited him.

"Adopting?" The old man laughed strangely, a rasping "zhe zhe" sound escaping his throat. He reached out a hand as withered as a chicken claw and stroked Little Hals' handsome face, his sharp nails pricking the boy uncomfortably.

As if sensing Little Hals' discomfort, the old man withdrew his hand and turned to leave. "Come with me. I'll take you to your new home."

"Ah... oh." Little Hals nodded blankly and quickly followed.

Little Hals stared blankly at the modest house with a small yard before him.

"Is this your home?"

"Ah, no. This is just a temporary stop for me." The old man didn't wait for Little Hals and opened the door to walk in on his own.

It was already late. The old man bought some food from outside and shared a hearty dinner with Little Hals. This would also be the best and most normal meal Hals would eat in the years to come.

After dinner, the old man seemed inexplicably excited. He rubbed his hands together, his eyes burning as he looked at Little Hals.

"Come, Little Hals. Come see the room where you'll be living."

It was a small side room in the yard. Just as they reached the door, Little Hals suddenly caught a faint smell of blood in the air.

He hesitated. "Old grandpa, why is there a smell of blood?"

"Oh." The old man seemed pleasantly surprised. "You can smell it? Not a bad talent. What a pity. Go on in."

Without room for argument, he pressed his hand on Little Hals' shoulder and pushed him into the room.

The scene inside terrified Little Hals.

A wooden chair stained with blood and a cross fitted with chains and shackles, along with many whips soaking in wine and a basin of branding irons.

Little Hals sensed something was wrong. His face filled with panic as he quickly turned to flee outward, only to crash headfirst into the old man who had already been standing behind him. The old man grabbed Little Hals by the shoulder with his withered hand, squeezing so hard it hurt.

The old man viciously threw Little Hals onto the wooden chair and locked the shackles in place.

A cold, sinister smile spread across his pale face.

Soul Rings appeared behind him, and several small knives materialized in his hand.

The old man licked his cracked lips as the knives gradually turned red. He approached the wooden chair, staring at Little Hals's face—still handsome despite the terror. The old man frowned, his brow thick with disgust.

"Your face is too ugly. Let me help make it look better."

Watching the searing blade draw closer and closer to his face, Little Hals's expression twisted in horror, his eyes bulging wide. "No, don't—Aaaah!"

Sizzle

That was the sound of a hot knife cutting into flesh.

Hals didn't know how he had gotten through this past year. The same torture repeated every day—knives, branding irons, whips, bones broken and then left to heal before starting all over again. For some reason, Hals had an extremely strong recovery ability. Injuries that would take ordinary people a long time to heal usually recovered in just a few days for Hals. But Hals wished he didn't have such an ability.

At first, Hals would beg the old man with tears and snot streaming down his face to let him go. Later, Hals would painfully hope the old man would finish his daily "tasks" sooner. By now, Hals had become numb to this kind of "care." Though it still hurt, his body was too exhausted to react anymore.

Creak

The door was pushed open, but Hals couldn't be bothered to look at the old man entering.

Today, however, the old man didn't start right away. Instead, he looked at Hals with a complicated expression. Hals lifted his head wearily and met the old man's gaze.

The old man spoke in a flat tone. "What a pity. I've received orders to return for a mission, so I can't stay here with you anymore. What a shame—a perfect 'son' like you is very hard to come by. Well then, let me give you one last transformation."

"Aaaah~"

The old man hadn't come for two days, and Hals hadn't eaten for two days either. The old man had left the keys at Hals's side, but he had broken Hals's arms. Hals could only wait for them to heal before he could unlock the shackles and escape to freedom. But Hals didn't know if he could hold on until that moment.

He had finally escaped. Weak and frail, Hals stumbled along the wall, staggering away from the house where he had lived for over a year.

Hals had lost all joy in and hope for life. He didn't know how he was supposed to live, or why he should live at all.

His weakened body finally gave out. He was wearing only a thin, bloodstained shirt, and the snow outside was heavy.

Using the last shred of strength in his body, Hals crawled into a cave. Through a blurry haze, he saw a grim-faced man leading a group of people into the cave.

The man seemed very interested in Hals, who was covered in blood and strange scars all over his body. He opened his mouth and said something.

Hals's ears were ringing from weakness, and he couldn't make out what the man said. He only vaguely heard something about whether he wanted to go with him, and that his food and lodging would be guaranteed. Hals collapsed limply on the ground, nodding weakly, then tilted his head and passed out.

That man was Qian Xunji, the current Pope of Martial Soul Hall.

After entering Martial Soul Hall, awakening his Martial Soul, and beginning to cultivate, Hals still lived in a daze. He felt no gratitude toward that man. From Qian Xunji's eyes, he only saw the intention to use him. If necessary, Qian Xunji would abandon him without hesitation.

But one day, in a side hall of Martial Soul Hall, he saw a little girl.

By then, Hals had already hidden his entire body beneath a long robe.

That little girl was very young, but she radiated a sunny aura. When he saw her, she was smiling happily, holding a few chicken cutlets and gnawing on them. Her round, slightly chubby little face was smeared with oil, but she was still very cute.

The little girl seemed to sense someone watching her. She turned her head and saw the figure hidden in the robe.

Hals, already over 1.7 meters tall, suddenly felt a flash of nervousness. He quickly hid his body behind a pillar, afraid of scaring the little girl.

The little girl looked curiously at this strange person, bit her finger, tilted her head in thought, then held out her chicken cutlet toward Hals and asked:

"Hmm, do you want some chicken cutlet? There aren't many, but if you really want some, that's okay."

The little girl's sweet voice cracked open a tiny gap in Hals's frozen heart, letting the sunlight shine in.

That little girl was Bibi Dong in her childhood.

From that moment on, Hals suddenly found motivation and hope in life. He began to train even harder, desperately pushing himself. Fortunately, his talent was excellent. Talent combined with hard work made him the strongest of that generation's Golden Generation in Martial Soul Hall, even rivaling some of the elders.

Finally, after becoming an elder candidate and making a major contribution, he proposed to the Pope that he wished to become the servant of the one who had already become a Holy Maiden candidate—Bibi Dong.

Qian Xunji agreed. From that day on, Hals officially became Bibi Dong's servant, and officially began his new life.